


The King of Spain

by hyperpulse42



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers Series - Alexandre Dumas, The Inseparables | Les Inseparables, The Musketeers (2014), d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Gen, Hurt Aramis | René d'Herblay, Parental Treville, Protective Athos, Protective Porthos, Protective Treville, Young Aramis, protective d'artagnan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperpulse42/pseuds/hyperpulse42
Summary: Aramis is dead.The Inseparables’ world crumbled into pieces in an instant. Minister Treville felt like he just lost a son. Queen Anne was heartbroken upon the death of her beloved. France mourned the death of a great man and soldier their country could have ever seen. Despite not having the full blood of a Frenchman, his heart and soul surely made up for it.It had been 8 months since that happened yet nothing was back to normal, none of them thought it would. They all thought it was their new normal, until, a boy, a sweet young boy that looked too much like their fallen brother turned up at the garrison. The woman that had brought him said nothing else except to ‘Protect the future King of Spain.”
Relationships: Ana de Austria | Anne d'Autriche/Aramis | René d'Herblay, d'Artagnan/Constance Bonacieux
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! After watching BBC’s The Musketeers, I couldn't help but write this fic. This takes place in Season 3 but with a different story line. A couple of things may change here like how Aramis never got Queen Anne pregnant but their love is still strong as ever. Along with that is a couple of new characters. This idea was just a prompt in my head after I watched Empire (2005 Mini-Series) where Santiago Cabrera played the young Gaius Octavius. Santiago was so adorable and cute there that it tempted me to write something that involved him so here I am. I hope you like this and I'll be updating it everyday.
> 
> Thank you!

Porthos immediately caught the woman as she lost consciousness. None of them were able to hear much about what she said except for ‘Spain’. Porthos gathered her in his arms before glancing at Athos who nodded at him to take her somewhere. The dark-skinned musketeer breathed out and spared the little boy one last glance before rushing to the infirmary. D’Artagnan and Athos were quickly at the boy’s side as they looked him over. The dark curly hair, big brown eyes, face structure, eyebrows, charming face. The boy could be easily mistaken for their brother. 

D’Artagnan looked around for anyone who might’ve seen whatever happened but luckily it was nearly evening. Most of the musketeers were also in their own rooms already or the tavern and they will not be coming out soon. Porthos then came back with creased eyebrows as his eyes settled on his friends who were sitting at their usual table, along with the mysterious boy. 

“Who are you?” D’Artagnan decided to ask gently as to not scare him off, “Don’t worry, we’re good guys, musketeers. If your mother or whoever she is that brought you here then you’re safe, I promise.” 

The boy seemed upset as he slowly shook his head, _“Ella no es mi madre.”_

His answer caused all three men to look at each other. None of them spoke an ounce of spanish, that was all Aramis. The memory of their brother flooded them once again even as they tried hard to push it away. Porthos couldn’t help but look away from the young boy, not only did he carry his features but also his native tongue. 

“She is not my mother, I said.” The boy spoke once more, this time they managed to understand. His small voice with a hint of accent their brother once had only made their heart clench for him more, “She is a servant of my mother. Her name is Julia.” 

D’Artagnan nodded at the progress they were getting before softly laying a hand on his shoulder, “I see. Will you tell us your name then? And how old are you?” 

It was a good question to start. Porthos and Athos stared at the young boy awaiting his answer. He might be lost and his name could help them bring him back to someone, or maybe he was kidnapped or being taken. Anything could be a possibility but something in their chest was screaming at them about who this boy is. 

“Aramis, my name is Aramis.” 

All three of them froze. D’Artagnan slowly flinched as he backed away from the boy, his eyes still staring straight at him. The three looked like they saw a ghost, like their breath was just taken away and they had no idea how to get it back. The more they stared at him, the more they saw their brother. The boy just looked up at them, his eyes switching between the three men in front of him. He couldn’t help but gulp and wrap his arms around him before looking down at his feet. 

“And I’m 16.” He decided to quietly add, “Well, turning 16, anyways.” 

Him speaking seemed to knock the three out of their trance as they all glanced at each other. Upon seeing how the boy was now looking down, Porthos took it upon himself to slowly sit beside him, his eyes trailed at his side profile. Oh, Aramis, have you come back to us? He silently thought. 

“Aramis,” Porthos started which made the boy glance at him, “That is a very lovely name.”

The boy finally revealed a small smirk, one their brother has mastered doing to charm the ladies. For the first time in months, the little smirk he gave made him spare a big smile. Porthos thought he would forever lose the ability but he was wrong. This boy, whoever he is, showed him he was wrong. The other two musketeers weren’t blind to the effect this boy had on their brother, they saw how an ounce of joy managed to appear on his face and it surely was intoxicating. 

“Thank you,” Aramis smiled before glancing up at the two others, “I would also like to ask if you have any cloth to spare, and wine.” 

The last request made their eyebrows quirk. Is the young boy an alcoholic at this age? All three of them began shooting each other glances which Aramis didn’t fail to notice. Their confusion on the matter only made him chuckle which again caught their attention. 

“It is not what you think.” He assured them with a nod before slowly lifting up his sleeves revealing a bleeding cut on his arm, “There were men running after us and managed to cut me. They hit Julia on the head with a pistol that’s why she lost consciousness. I need the wine to not risk infection, not to drink it, don’t worry.” 

All of them breathed in relief upon knowing what his intentions were, but the fact that he knew how to handle injuries well at his age only made them think about their brother a lot more. D’Artagnan slowly stood up before giving him a small nod and pointing at the tavern. 

“I’ll go get it.” He suggested before leaving the three of them

Porthos easily shook himself away from his thoughts and began assessing the boy’s injuries. The big musketeer gently held his arm and surveyed it as they both began talking. Athos couldn’t stop staring at the boy, at Aramis. He could very well see how him and Porthos were talking, as if they’d known each other for years. Athos met Aramis, their Aramis, at the age of 16 and so did Porthos. If only Athos believed in God, he would say the boy could be a reincarnation of their brother. 

“How did you come to know about treating injuries?” Athos asked, the first time he’s uttered a word making the boy look up at him with a hint of intimidation. 

Aramis shrugged, “Back in Spain, I saw many people suffering because of the war. They were being brought into the house of God, begging for their lives. When me and Julia once came to pray, a man begged me to help him but I couldn’t because I knew nothing. That day, I decided I wanted to help so I asked Father Pedro to teach me. He only taught me a handful of things because Mother discovered it and confined me to the house.” 

“And your father?” Athos dazedly inquired. It was not after he asked it that he realized what he just said. D’Artagnan then arrived with a torn piece of cloth and skin of wine in his hands. 

Aramis went on to grab it from D’Artagnan but Porthos decided to instead. He shot the boy a smile and look that meant ‘let me do it’ so he returned it and slowly nodded. The boy breathed in deeply and hissed in pain as Porthos poured the wine on his arm as slowly as he could. His eyes were shut closed as he let the pain fade. As soon as he felt the big man wrapping his arm with the cloth he managed to breathe normally again. 

“The only thing my mother told me was that my father was a womanizer, charming, reckless, and young.” The boy answered which caused the brothers to tense at his words. 

They weren’t even sure about who his father is, but if it is who they think it is then his mother made a poor impression about what kind of man his father was, “But, she also told me he was brave, kind, religious, and honorable. Her and Julia said that he was adored by everyone, mostly women which made it hard for her to keep him in her life. They both gushed about how much I look like him, they said it was hard to deny especially when I grow up. She named me after him too. Mother told me that he didn’t know about my existence but soon he would and he would be proud.” 

With this revelation, the Musketeers couldn’t deny it any more. They had thought it was Aramis who appeared at the gates, one would not even need the confirmation, his face and everything about him screamed no other than their beloved brother. Aramis Jr. stared at the three musketeers wondering why they had gone silent again. He began to notice it upon his arrival so these men probably had a huge role in his father’s life. 

He was about to open his mouth to say something when he was suddenly enveloped in a hug by the large musketeer. Porthos hadn’t realized what he’d done until he felt the boy’s hair under his chin. He could feel the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and he didn’t stop it. He buried his head on the little one’s hair and sobbed at the remembrance of his brother. D’Artagnan couldn’t stop it as well as he went on to rub Porthos’ arms before wrapping his arms around them. 

Athos stopped himself, the scene was making his heart hurt so much. He longed for Aramis and in exchange it seems like his god or Aramis himself sent this boy to them. The swordsman closed his eyes as tightly as he could but his hand unconsciously found the boy’s. He hoped to feel nothing but his eyes shot open when the boy squeezed his hand back. Athos watched as Aramis looked deep into his eyes and spared that one-sided smile. It was then that the musketeer broke. His head hung forward as he held the boy’s hand in his tightly as if he would run. It was as if the skies read him because rain began to pour heavily. It was enough to ease Athos and disguise the tears pouring from his face. 

There, drenched in the rain, the Musketeers held in their arms their brother’s memory and legacy.


	2. Chapter Two

D’Artagnan offered to bring Aramis to his late father’s room for him to rest which the other two agreed was a good idea. None of them had visited their friend’s room since he died. It was still a fresh wound for them and none was willing to probe that yet except for D’Artagnan who took it upon himself to show the boy a place to rest. Porthos and Athos sat there, under the moonlight on their usual table. They were dazed, as if they couldn’t believe what just happened. 

It was huge news which they knew they had to tell Treville. Firstly, they had to know the true story and what caused them to run to the garrison now. It seemed like the boy had no idea as to why they were being chased as well, their information relied on the unconscious woman in the infirmary. 

“Aramis’ son.” Porthos at long last uttered out loud, “Our brother’s son who looks and acts too much like him. How are we supposed to handle that? Is this his way of bringing himself back to us? Is this the way of Aramis’ God bringing our brother back to us? I’m confused, Athos.” 

The swordsman grabbed the skin of wine on the table which they used for Aramis’ wound and drank it all, “I am too, Porthos. That boy, that Aramis, he makes my heart clench. I don’t know whether to be sad or happy by his presence, to feel thankful or mad. Everyone who knew Aramis mourned for too long and then his son appears out of nowhere and reopens it all. For us it is fine because that wound will never close, his absence will always be felt, but what about the others?” 

Athos leaned back on the table before throwing the skin away and continuing, “Treville, The Queen, Constance, the Musketeers, the commoners who looked up to him. How will they take this boy’s presence? Some people here have grown and witnessed how Aramis grew up. They all knew what he looked like in this boy’s age and this, this boy is exactly like him. Some might even mistake him for a ghost or claim that he has risen from the dead.” 

At this, Porthos huffed, “If only he could then he would’ve. But this boy, he’s Aramis’ son. I don’t believe in God but Aramis does, and I believe in Aramis. If this is his God’s way of giving us a second chance and soothe this ache in our hearts then I say we take it. Wherever our brother is, I think he’s had enough of our sulking and pain and sent us _this_ Aramis to relieve us of that and tell us to keep going.” 

They both sat in silence as the swordsman absorbed everything Porthos said. From behind them, D’Artagnan managed to hear it too and couldn’t agree more. If this is a second chance then they would take it. The Gascon’s heart felt lighter than before as he managed to hug the little Aramis, it felt like he was hugging their marksman and he was sure the others felt it too. For a moment, D’Artagnan felt like there was a God after all. 

“Whatever they came here for then we should help them. It’s the least we can do for Aramis.” D’Artagnan spoke out to inform them of his presence before sitting next to Athos, “We’ll talk to this Julia and ask just what brought them here. I believe we should inform Treville and the Queen of this too.” 

“Not the queen.” Athos instantly restricted, “Not yet. Just Treville and Constance since I know you can’t lie to her.” 

They knew how much Queen Anne loved Aramis too and they didn’t know what her reaction would be to his unknown son who happens to have the exact face of his late father. There was also the matter of the woman saying something that included ‘Spain’. Their queen was Spanish and figured that she should know but again, she’s been a French queen a lot more. 

“I’ll be the one to inform Treville tomorrow.” Athos added since it would be less suspicious, “You should both wait for Julia to wake up and tend to Aramis, of course.”

“Will it be alright to have him walk around the garrison then?” Porthos asked, “He looks too much like our brother. There are older musketeers here who have seen Aramis back when he was young, they would either be terrified or overjoyed. I’d prefer the latter, of course.” 

Athos sighed since it was true. There have been talks of people with witchcraft and upon seeing the carbon copied son of their brother, they might think it has to do with that, “I have no choice but to explain it to them in the morning muster and make them swear to secrecy. Musketeers, unlike those filthy Red Guards, are honorable men and all of us are family.”

“And the regiment loves Aramis, they will honor him and his legacy.” D’Artagnan nodded in assurance as he remembered the whole regiment’s mourning. 

For at least a month, every Musketeer barely smiled or mentioned Aramis’ name. Those who slandered the late soldier’s name barely lived to breathe the other day, and that was from an ordinary Musketeer. God forbid who spoke ill of their brother in front of the Inseparables. Shooting practice was even stopped for months as no one could teach it better than the marksman himself. Porthos was the one who took over but he lost patience too easily, wondering how his brother had managed to become so patient all this time. None of them could teach the way Aramis did, none of them had his patience, technique, and his charm. 

“We protect the boy then,” Porthos decided as he glanced at his two brothers, “For Aramis.” 

“For Aramis.” The other two repeated with sincerity and passion.

After a few moments of silence and another bottle of wine, the three figured it best to retire and just let everything that happened sink in. Aramis, who was sleeping in his father’s room, slowly woke up in the middle of the night. He stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes before standing up and looking around. It’s his first time in the place but he felt like he’s been there all his life. 

On the wooden chair beside the cabinet, his eyes found a couple of clothes, pauldron, hat, scarf, and pistols. Two rapiers also hung on the chair which he slowly unsheathed. He wasn’t the best when it came to sword fighting but if taught, he knew he would excel in it. He then sheathed it back before finally grabbing the pistol in his hands. It felt light, like it was made for him. He’s shot a pistol a few times along with a bow and arrow. Hunting was his only hobby back in Spain after being cooped up most of his life. His mother and people who knew him often complimented him about his deadly accuracy, another gift from his beloved father. Growing up with memories of him made it feel like he’s known him for years. Despite being raised by servants and his mother, it felt like everything about him came from his father. 

Sighing, he carefully placed the pistol back where he got it and began looking around the room again. A 15-year old, living in the garrison just like his father did as such a young age, could he even be more like him than he already is? He stood up and kept roaming around thinking how he should clean the place if they end up staying here. It was untouched, probably since his father died. He couldn’t blame them, he never even knew his father but his heart ached for him. He knew of the tales of the musketeers, he basically grew up with their stories and achievements. Most of it were stories about the three of them, he’s only heard a few ones with D’Artagnan in it since it wasn’t that long since he joined. 

The servants referred to his father as the youngest of the Three Musketeers and the regiment. He was the youngest one to ever train as a musketeer, he was 16 when Captain Treville found him and by 17 he was already part of the regiment. It only strengthened his awe for his father yet also placed a lot of pressure on him. How could he even live up to his name? To his achievements? Looking and acting like him wasn’t enough. He has to be him, he has to be better. It’s the least he could do to honor his father’s name. 

As he laid down on the bed, he couldn’t help but think and talk to his father wherever he was. 

_“I will do my best to honor your name, Father. Wherever you are, you will not be forgotten. I promise you that ‘til I draw my last breath. ”_


	3. Chapter Three

Aramis slowly woke up to the open window that caused the morning breeze to come in. The boy groaned as he slowly opened his eyes and shut the window close. He collapsed on the bed once more as he realized that it was indeed morning. He felt himself drifting off to sleep if it weren’t for the soft knock on the door. 

He knew he had no right to complain so he drowsily stood up and opened the door revealing Athos. The swordsman gave him a small tight smile before letting himself inside the room fully. Athos couldn’t avoid looking around, it still felt as if he was here. His eyes found his brother’s things on top of the wooden chair and with the sting he felt inside his chest, he instantly avoided his gaze. 

“I hope you slept well,” Athos uttered as he stared at the young boy rubbing his eyes. 

The boy nodded before stretching his back, “I did.”

“Aramis,” Athos started as he moved closer to him with a hint of seriousness in his voice, “We’re going to tell the Musketeers about who you are. The garrison is the only place you can stay at until we fully know what’s happening. It’s better if they find out about it from us rather than just stumbling upon you. Those men downstairs, they love your father, but seeing you might make them feel a bit confused.” 

This made the boy nod in understanding, “It’s because of how I look, I know.”

The swordsman sighed as he noticed the small hint of sadness in his voice. Possibly because of how even in France, he has no choice but stay in one place which is how he probably lived all his life. In the musketeer’s mind, once all is clear and whatever threat is gone, they would be able to show him everything. It’s obvious that the boy is adventurous, just like his father, he’s someone that can’t be chained down. 

“I don’t know how such a thing is possible, for you to look as if you were him. Most men here have grown up with your father while some witnessed it as he did. Your identity is something we cannot hide, most importantly in the place where you’ll be staying.” Athos added 

“A gift from God, that’s what this is, a miracle.” Aramis answered with wide eyes

It’s all about God, of course it is, Athos couldn’t have expected less. He was mad at him, still is, why would this so called God take their brother from them? Take this boy’s father from him? He wanted to throw insults at the Creator of the Universe but seeing how this boy believed in him the way his father did, he just couldn’t. Porthos was right, they didn’t believe in God, but they did believe in Aramis. Bashing this boy’s belief would be like bashing his father, and that’s something he couldn’t do. 

“It sure is,” The musketeer replied before inhaling heavily and looking around the room, “I say you freshen up then. It’ll be a while ‘til you get introduced to everyone so take that time to get dressed. I’m sure there are lots of clothes in here you can use.” 

The boy glanced at the cabinet then back to the man in front of him, “I’ll see what I can find.”

Athos spared him a tight smile before slowly backing away towards the door, “I’ll leave you to it then.” 

Aramis watched as his father’s friend closed the door behind him before slowly taking it upon himself to move around the room freely. He opened his father’s cabinet and found various tunics, trousers, braies, and everything. A small smirk crept up on his face as he noticed how his father seemed like a man who valued his image. He figured he did, to capture women’s hearts, one has to look the part. It didn’t bother him that his father slept with numerous women, it actually brought him a bit of joy since there is a chance he might have half-siblings. Although there was no denying the ton of sin that came with his father’s lust since he thinks he might have inherited that too. 

As Athos exited the room, he had to take a moment to lean on the door and let out the air he didn’t know he was holding. The feeling of being in his brother’s room had brought back so many memories and wounds. He could barely hold himself vertically as he saw his prized pistols and other things Aramis last used. It was then he remembered just why he couldn’t enter the room for so long. He heard rustling behind the door and figured it was Aramis going through his father’s things. He nodded to himself, if there’s anyone who has the right to go through his things it was his son. 

The Captain of the Musketeers breathed in heavily in order to compose himself and with one swift exhale he opened his eyes. He descended down the stairs with his typical blank expression as his eyes roamed the musketeers who all stood straight like the soldiers they are. Porthos and D’Artagnan stood to the side like they usually do. He also didn’t fail to notice Constance standing beside D’Artagnan who also spared him a small smile. The Gascon probably found it better to have Athos explain it all rather than him doing it. The two musketeers nodded at Athos to start with what he’s about to say which of course, they already knew about. 

“Gentlemen,” The Captain started, his eyes roaming them all, “I know you are all confused as to why I’ve called up a muster this day. Well, I intend to address that now.” 

He’s never felt this nervous nor at loss while addressing something. It’s given that the situation they’re currently in is quite hard to explain but he knew the easiest way to go through with it is act like it’s normal. Like he’s simply introducing the son of a fallen brother, a son that is the exact copy of him, that is. It was the only variable that made things harder than it seemed but nevertheless, it’s something he had to clear up. 

“It’s been 8 sufferable months since our brother, the best marksman France has probably seen, was taken from us.” Athos started as he instantly saw how all the soldiers’ faces fell upon the remembrance of their late brother, “Aramis, our dear Aramis, is a lot of things. Brave, kind, witty, charming, a head-turner indeed. I’ve never said it out loud but yes, Aramis is probably Paris’ best lover.” 

His small quip to lighten up the mood didn’t fail as it caused several chuckles to erupt along with Porthos and D'Artagnan, “Last night, that mantle was proven. Someone who barely had any part in our brother’s life yet he who deserved it the most appeared. I admit, I have no idea how to put this best into words but our brother, he may have fallen, but his legacy lives on.” 

Those words were enough to stir the soldiers into a series of murmurs. Constance’s eyebrows knitted together as she looped her arms in D’Artagnan’s who simply spared her a small smile leaving all the talk to Athos. Porthos looked up at his brother’s room where he could see Aramis snooping and soon gave him a reassuring nod. 

“Aramis has a child?” 

“His kid came? Why now?” 

“Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to take advantage of him?”

“How are you even sure it’s his?” 

Numerous questions erupted from the soldiers which he figured had a better answer. Athos sighed deeply before raising his hand to stop them from speaking. Upon seeing how the men had gone silent, he straightened his back and held his chin high. 

“It’s better if I show you,” He answered as he finally saw his brother’s son descending from the stairs.

Athos motioned for him to come and the soldiers, upon seeing where their Captain’s eyes were directed, followed it as well. Gasps and murmurs once again escaped the soldiers’ lips, those who were religious began doing the sign of the cross as if they’d seen a demon, Constance couldn’t stop her hands from covering her mouth as soon as she saw the boy. Everyone currently present couldn’t deny it, it felt as if Aramis had risen from the dead in his once youthful body. 

“Witchcraft!”

“He has risen from the dead!” 

“Sorcery!” 

Their notions made Athos close his eyes momentarily before placing his hand on Aramis’ shoulder. The boy could see how all of them were murmuring and he didn’t know whether to feel ashamed or not about it. Their remarks scared him a bit since he knew what the consequences of being accused by witchcraft is. He felt like his identical features with his father was both a curse and a blessing. Right now, he wasn’t sure which. 

“Again, brothers,” Athos began before rubbing his eyebrows and staring at the soldiers, “None of this is sorcery, witchcraft, or whatever it is you think. This boy is a simple product of biology and our brother’s passion. He is not a witch, not someone risen from the dead, he is Aramis’ son, our brother’s son.” 

One of the soldiers huffed in disbelief, “We can see that, almost too much.” 

“By the grace of God, it’s as if Aramis has been brought back to us.” One of the more religious soldiers gawked as he once again did the sign of the cross which the boy smiled at

“Everyone,” Porthos suddenly butted in to relieve the crowd of their speculations may it be good or bad, “Yes, it’s not hard to believe that this boy is our brother’s son. In fact, you should all be glad! By his features alone we don’t need any more confirmations. Would you rather it was an impostor?”

“But he looks too much like him! It’s as if it is Aramis standing in front of us back when he first started becoming a musketeer!” An older man exclaimed, “How does one explain that?” 

D’Artagnan then joined his friends in standing in front of the others, “That’s simply called science. I think having your child look exactly like you is quite the compliment and assurance that yes, this is my flesh and blood. In this case, he just looked too much like him and that’s not impossible. We have many cases of twins and does that seem impossible? No. What’s wrong with having a child look exactly like his father?” 

“Imagine twins, but instead of siblings, make it father and son.” Porthos added with a shrug which caused another series of murmurs to erupt among them 

Aramis began biting the inside of his cheeks, their stares felt like it was probing his brain. He didn’t know how he looked would cause such problems to arise. Back in Spain, no one paid much attention to him which is probably because they didn’t know much about his father, but here, here they all knew him, they all grew up with him. He didn’t know whether they'd accept him or not but he wished they would. Earning the acceptance of the Musketeers is the first step in honoring his father, and he plans to do that no matter the cost.

“My name is Aramis and yes, I was named after him as well.” He suddenly blurted out loud causing the soldiers to stare at him along with the three musketeers behind him, “I believe it is God’s will for me to continue what my father left. He placed me in your path to ease the pain I know you all feel. I’m not saying I’m here to replace my father, that’s something I can’t do because no matter how much we share in common, my father is one of a kind. I know the legacy he left, his achievements, his kindness, even the troubles he caused. I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to live up to it, but I do know that I will do my best to honor him. He was taken far too soon and yes, I would do anything to have him in my life but alas, God has made his will clear. I may have his name, his face, his heart, his personality, his bravery, and his skills, but I didn’t have him.” 

Everyone began to listen intently as such words left the young boy’s mouth, “You all managed to have him in your lives, something only I could dream of. I know my situation is quite hard to explain, to look as if I’m a reincarnation or a long lost twin of my father but D’Artagnan is right, it’s just science. When things start becoming unexplainable we look at two reasons, one is witchcraft while the other is a miracle. Why refer to my existence as a form of sorcery when it is so much easier to believe that it is a work of God? I doubt God would reward a child of his with a son stemming from the deeds of the devil.” 

The last part caused a couple of chuckles as they witnessed how the boy had apparently inherited his father’s sarcasm too, “I don’t know what brought me here, but I’ll take this chance to grow up with all of you as my father did. I may not know him well but I don’t think he’d trust someone as much as he trusted all of you. You became his family throughout the years and all I ask is the same, that is if you’ll accept me.” 

After the speech he didn’t even know he could deliver, he slowly looked up at Porthos who placed a proud hand on his shoulder. D’Artagnan did it too as he ruffled his hair while Athos gave him a small nod. Constance, who stood on the side, brought her hands to wipe away the tears she didn’t know was falling before walking over to the boy and ruffling his hair. 

“If accepting you is the least we can do for Aramis,” The old man who spoke earlier started before glancing at the other musketeers, “Then we accept you with open arms!” 

Everyone cheered while some even raised their rapiers. The cheering continued and Aramis felt a smile creeping up his face. Upon seeing his reaction, Athos softly nudged the boy to walk towards them which he carefully did and soon, he was showered with pats, hugs, as well as soldiers ruffling his hair. They all seemed to treat him like they’ve known him for years which is what he wanted. He began to laugh along with them as he was then lifted off his feet by the musketeers. 

The Three Musketeers along with Constance watched as their brother’s son was lifted off the ground being celebrated as if he was a war hero. A true and wide smile found its way on their faces after a very long time of not being able to muster one. Aramis would be proud and happy to see how his son has been accepted into their family. If their friend was alive, he would’ve been automatically accepted, but seeing how his son managed to do that himself is quite a feat. 

Aramis then found the eyes of the Three Musketeers who all gave him a nod. It’s confirmed, his father had the best of friends the world could offer. He didn’t know why he was suddenly brought to where he currently is but he was glad he was. He’s spent most of his life with his mother already, this time, he’d prefer to spend his life like his father did. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a long chapter ahead! The previous chapters I wrote are shorter although in general, I like writing quite long. For this book, however, I can't guarantee the length since it can change from time to time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

As soon as the gathering was over, Athos made all of them swear to keep this new knowledge to themselves before assigning them their daily tasks and letting them have their breakfast. The Captain ate with them in silence before excusing himself to finally make his way to the palace to inform Treville. Porthos insisted he come but Athos declined the offer telling him to just stay with Aramis along with D’Artagnan and Constance. 

They sat at the usual table outside where they all talked quite normally for once. They reminisced old memories and adventures that included Aramis which his son enjoyed quite well. It’s the first time since his death that they were able to talk freely about him as if he just took a walk outside. The boy hasn’t even stayed for 24-hours yet the difference was already evident. Constance couldn’t help but laugh along with them as she rested her chin on her palms, her eyes constantly glancing at the boy eating his porridge which Porthos began to notice. 

“Leave the boy be, Constance,” Porthos groaned which earned a chuckle from Aramis himself, “Stare too much and D’Artagnan might start feeling jealous.”

The Gascon rolled his eyes before slowly shaking his head, “I’m not that petty.” 

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Aramis shrugged before pushing the finished bowl of porridge aside, “Being stared at by such a beautiful woman should be considered a compliment.” 

His reply made Porthos and Constance erupt into a fit of laughter as D’Artagnan stared at the boy with his mouth wide open. The young musketeer slowly shook his head before playfully shoving him aside, “You really are Aramis’ son, aren’t you?” 

Porthos smiled widely before leaning over to ruffle the boy’s locks, “I just hope he doesn’t cause too much problem that involves women like he does. Please, tell me you’re not  _ that  _ much like him.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m considered quite the romantic.” Aramis smirked with a raised eyebrow, “I was mostly raised by women so I fully accept the superiority of the female sex.”

That line and that same idea of women truly reminded them of their brother. Constance couldn’t help but notice it too. She knew of how much a flirt the musketeer was but she also knew how much respect he had for them. To know that his son had inherited the same belief only made her heart long for him more. He didn’t even get the chance to be a father to him yet he turned out exactly as Aramis would’ve wanted. 

“You’re only 15, how can you be a romantic?” D’Artagnan teasingly asked before tilting his head to the side

Aramis shrugged, “Father was 15 when he had me.” 

“Oh, let’s not go there, yeah?” Porthos cautioned as he glanced at the couple who had a grin on their faces, “Don’t follow him through that path. Everything you have in common with him is enough, no need to make a baby too.” 

The big musketeer’s warning caused all three of them to once again burst into laughter. Porthos himself slowly began laughing as he saw the joy in all of them. Maybe having this kid really is a blessing, even death can’t stop their brother from making them happy. 

“Did they teach you how to fight back in Spain?” Constance suddenly asked which caused the boy’s eyes to widen

“I was mostly confined to the house so all I ever did was hunt. I’ve always had quite the aim with a pistol and I can also use a bow and arrow quite well.” He answered with a small nod, “I saw my mother fight once, she’s actually a great fighter but when I brought it up to her she avoided it. Cristóbal, one of the soldiers at home taught me how to fight a bit.”

They all hummed in amusement upon knowing that the boy had probably gotten his father’s marksmanship as well. Porthos suddenly stood up from his seat and grabbed an empty bottle on the floor before walking further away from them and placing it near the shooting range. D’Artagnan then placed the pistol on top of the table before giving the boy a small nod. Constance was quite worried that they were letting a teenage boy use a pistol but figured that it’s quite normal for them.

Upon seeing the challenge, a grin found its way on Aramis’ face as he stood up from his place. He inclined his head to the side as he looked at where Porthos placed the bottle. It was the farthest distance their musketeers and cadets were able to shoot and if the boy managed to shoot that far it would be quite the achievement. 

“Move it further, you take it easy on me.” Aramis’ smirked which made all three of them chuckle at his sudden confidence

Porthos nodded with an amused smile as he came to grab the bottle to put it in a place only Aramis, his father himself could shoot, “I see the confidence.” 

Aramis watched as the musketeer placed the bottle in probably the farthest place one can shoot. For the ordinary eye, it was barely visible, but for him, it was clear as day. Most people would say that the distance was ludicrous, that it’s a joke, but in reality, it was a piece of cake. 

“Very well Jr. Let’s see you shoot it from he--”

All three of them flinched as a loud shot erupted causing all the birds to fly away. The supposed target was reduced to shards as their eyes finally landed on young Aramis who was holding the pistol in his hands, smoke came out of its barrel as the boy smirked and brought it to his lips to blow it away. Porthos’ jaw hung open as Constance and D’Artagnan glanced at each other with pure amusement and disbelief at the boy’s skill.

“Next time, give us a warning.” Porthos managed to say before giving the boy a pat on the cheek

Aramis smirked before placing the pistol back on the table, “Surprise is everything.” 

D’Artagnan slowly nodded in agreement as his words brought back memories from when he first met the marksman. It was his exact same words when they came to face Gaudet, oh how he failed to wait for his signal. Instead of feeling a sense of longing for their late brother, he felt as if his chest grew lighter and he reckons it has something to do with his son. 

“Impressive shot indeed.” 

They all turned their heads towards the gates where they saw Athos slowly enter. The musketeer didn’t fail to witness from afar how the boy managed to shoot the target at such distance with so little preparation, an excellent marksman in the making. He hopped down from his horse and didn’t fail to notice how light all of them looked, with smiles on their faces like they did nothing but have fun. 

“Thank you,” Aramis beamed at the praise 

His eyes eventually landed on the person slowly entering from behind him. Unlike the musketeers, this man was dressed more regally with a medallion around his neck which means he might be someone important. He continued to watch as the man’s jaw dropped upon gazing at him. 

Treville couldn’t help but stare as he gaped at the teenage boy in front of him. When Athos came and told him that Aramis had a son, he wasn’t at all surprised considering his streak for sleeping with women. When Athos added how much he looked like him, he figured he was only exaggerating, but it didn’t seem to be the case. As he hopped down from his horse, he couldn’t stop his feet from hurriedly walking towards the boy, his eyes roaming his every feature. If there’s anyone who has witnessed or seen just what Aramis looked like when he first came into the musketeers, it was him. 

“Aramis?” He found himself saying out loud as his hands hovered in the air in front of the boy’s face as if aching to touch him to see if he was real, “How is this possible?” 

Instead of moving away like most people would do when a stranger suddenly appears, he stayed where he was and let the man assess him. Slowly, he felt the man’s hand touch his face and he didn’t tense. Treville had to blink twice to make sure that what he was seeing is real. This boy he’s holding is the exact same boy he found behind the tavern shooting bottles and vegetables for amusement. The big Spanish eyes that stared at him were the same one that he saw when he first approached him. If it was possible to travel back in time, he would say he just did, back to when he first met his best marksman, to when he met Aramis. 

“Aramis, meet Treville, the War Minister of France and former Captain of the King’s Musketeers.” Athos introduced before glancing at their dazed superior, “Treville, meet Aramis,  _ Aramis’  _ son.” 

A small huff came from the Minister as he heard what his name is, as if it couldn’t be anymore confusing. Aramis smiled at the introduction as he sucked in a deep breath after realizing he’s in front of France’s Minister of War. Seeing how the boy had tensed just like his father upon meeting him for the first time, he decided to spare a smile to ease the situation. 

“Your father was like a son to me,” Treville started as he spoke with sincerity, “He was one of the best soldiers I had and there is not a day that I don’t miss him and his antics.”

Aramis breathed out the air he was holding before slowly nodding, “I know, you were the one who gave him a family when he needed one. I have nothing to offer but my deepest gratitude for taking care of him. It’s because of you that he was able to become the great musketeer people knew him to be.” 

“Your father always had it in him.” Treville assured him before placing a hand on his nape and motioning to the shards on the ground, “And I’m pretty sure you do as well.” 

Aramis glanced at it before looking at the Minister again, “It runs in the family.” 

Treville couldn’t help but smile at his retort and soon pulled him in for a brief hug. He patted him on the back as they separated but kept his hold on his shoulders. Aramis shook his head as they all gave him a proud grin as if he just got awarded by the king. 

“I think it’s time we talk to this servant of yours, hmm?” Treville suggested as Athos quickly walked to lead the way with Aramis and the others in tow. 

They all walked into the infirmary where the woman Aramis arrived with was laying on the bed. As they slowly entered the room, Julia’s eyes were immediately fixated on the teenage boy walking with the other musketeers. She breathed in relief as their eyes found each other and automatically she opened her arms.

“Kitten!” She exclaimed and with that the boy ran into her arms. 

She felt his arms wrap around her and couldn’t be anymore thankful that they arrived safely. The Musketeers watched as the scene unfolded before them, it looked like the boy spent most of her life with the woman. As they separated from their hug, Julia ran her hands through his hair, her eyes roaming his face and body to see if he had any injuries. 

“You’re okay, you’re really okay..” She breathed out before placing a small kiss on his head

Aramis smiled before taking her hands into his, “I’m fine, Julia. You’re the one who’s not.” 

Suddenly, Julia’s eyes widened as she remembered one of the men managing to cut the boy’s arm. She instantly reached for it but was halted by his hand on top of hers, a reassuring smile on his face. 

“You were cut,” Julia worriedly pointed out, “Have yo-”

“I’ve got it handled. It wasn’t that deep you know?” The boy chuckled which eased the woman a lot more

After their little moment, Julia was able to acknowledge the presence of the others and slowly she sat up being assisted by Aramis in the process. She gave them all a sweet smile before looking at the man she knew caught him before collapsing. Porthos gave the woman a nod as he saw the gratitude in her eyes. 

“I’m Minister Treville and these are Athos, Porthos, D’Artagnan, and Constance.” Treville introduced as he pointed to each of them who all gave her a small nod, “We’re friends of Aramis, his father.” 

Julia groaned as she gently shifted on the bed before looking up at the people she’s heard much about, “You’re more than friends to Aramis, you’re his family. I know who you all are, I’ve heard much about you.” 

“Julia is French, she’s the one who taught me so much about France and the famous Musketeers.” Aramis proudly uttered, causing all of them to bob their heads in understanding,  _ “Están buscando respuestas, Julia. No pude responder porque también estoy confundido.” _

The woman’s face looked like it paled as the teenage boy told her what they were currently here for. She glanced at the men who had no idea what Aramis just said but decided not to question it. Julia gulped before continuing to run her fingers through his soft dark locks. 

The Musketeers and even Constance stared strangely at the woman as they noticed the sudden change in her demeanor, perhaps about something Aramis just said. They saw her glance at them and wondered what it was for, did they not trust her? She was the one who came to them so why would she have second thoughts now. 

_ “Te diré las respuestas pronto.”  _ Julia assured the boy who just sighed in response before slowly nodding. She stared up at the others before slowly opening her mouth to talk, “There were men chasing us, three of them. We barely made it to the border but we did, thanks to the few skills Aramis acquired through the years.”

“Why were they after you?” Treville questioned 

Julia once again gulped as the Musketeers didn’t fail to notice the hesitation in her eyes, “It was due to his mother and father’s work, of course. His mother deals with many vain nobles while his father is a famous Musketeer who despite his kind heart have made quite the enemy.” 

Her answer was too vague and unsure that they instantly knew it was a lie but said nothing. They could all see how the boy seemed to believe in her answer and figured they could ask about it when he isn’t present. Treville saw all the signs too and like his men, he chose to just go with the flow. 

“But why now?” The Minister continued to ask hoping she would reveal some valuable answer 

Julia shrugged, “Because it was getting dangerous, and since he’s quite grown up now he’ll learn to take care of himself against them. His mother thought it best to bring him here so somehow he’ll know how to defend himself. I’m sure his father would agree as well.” 

At the mention of their late brother, Porthos couldn’t help but scoff, “And how can you know that?” 

“Because he told me himself.” 

They all turned their heads to the tiny voice that spoke beside Julia. All of them, except for the servant, furrowed their eyebrows in confusion at what he just said. Aramis told his son  _ himself?  _ What was that supposed to mean? Did their friend rise from the dead? Did he know about his son’s existence? Numerous questions ran through their minds as they stared at him. Seeing how all of them seemed confused and betrayed, Aramis sighed deeply before starting to fiddle with his fingers.

“It was 5 years ago, after he quit the Musketeers and before he joined the convent.” Aramis slowly explained as he began to think back to the brief time he spent with his father, “I know you came for him in the convent but he wasn’t there. It’s because he came home to Spain for a while to visit his mother’s grave, but then she stumbled upon Julia. It’s when he discovered everything. Mother and him spoke and he demanded to see me. He was at the estate for 2 weeks, in such a short time it felt like he’s taught me everything I know.” 

Instead of feeling angry at the boy for keeping such a secret from them, all they felt was a pang of sympathy for the boy who managed to at least see his father once. Aramis wished he could go back to that time and beg his father to stay longer, he should’ve begged harder. A small smile found its way on his face as he remembered himself crying over the fact that a man he barely knew was leaving, still, it further proved how devoted to God his father was and he understood that as he grew up. 

“He was the one who taught me how to shoot and hunt but he did it in secret because of Mother.” Aramis softly chuckled at how they sneaked out the woods, “He taught me tricks he’s never told anyone, he gave me tips and pointers on how to have that ‘deadly accuracy’ and urged me to train everyday. He showed me a few moves and told me tales about his adventures and his lovely brothers. He took me to church everyday too and we prayed together. Before he left, he told me that there are some very bad people in this world that will try their best to hurt me, and I needed to know how to defend myself. He told me how he would have wished to watch me train in the regiment, to have his brothers and son with him, fighting like it’s the easiest thing in the world. I told him soon, I told him to wait for me, guess he really can’t be chained down, huh?”

The last part was an attempt to lighten the air around them since it was starting to get filled by sorrow once more. Aramis looked up at all of them, his eyes wide and a one-sided smile plastered across his face to hide his sadness. He pursed his lips before letting his shoulders sag down, obviously feeling bad for lying to these good men. 

“I’m sorry for lying,” Aramis apologized, “I didn’t know whether to trust you. I didn’t know what you looked like or if you were one of the men trying to hurt us.”

Treville sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay, you did the right thing. I’m quite sure your father taught you that too, one can never be so careful, right?” 

“Knowing Aramis, he’s probably the one who taught you how to be a romantic, yeah?” Porthos added which caused the teenage boy to chuckle and the others to smile 

Aramis shrugged, “He might’ve.” 

“Kitten?” Julia suddenly called out making him spin his head quickly towards her, “I’m quite famished. Why don’t you get me something to eat, hm? Like you do when I get sick all the time. I miss getting spoiled by you.” 

“Of course you do!” Aramis exclaimed before jumping up to his feet 

Everyone in the room began giving Julia a suspicious look as to why she’s trying to get Aramis out of the room, still, none interfered. Getting the pleading look in the servant’s eyes, Constance took it upon herself to stand beside Aramis to usher him outside.

“I’ll go with you then so I can introduce you to Serge,” Constance suggested as she placed a hand on Aramis’ shoulder leading him out of the room. 

Constance looked behind her and nodded as D’Artagnan mouthed a small thank you. As soon as the two were out of the room, Julia sagged in relief. Again, Treville and the Musketeers raised their eyebrows at the woman’s action. It then became clear that she’s trying to hide something from Aramis and it’s why she was so careful with answering the questions. 

“It was a good lie,” Athos blankly complimented, “But if Aramis is surely like his father, it won’t be long ‘til he finds out.” 

At this, Julia’s eyes shot wide open, “And he mustn’t. His life depends on it.” 

“How about you tell us and we determine whether it is or it isn’t. I’ve just had enough of lying.” Treville demanded as all the lies he had to keep from his own soldiers flooded him. He wasn’t going to make that same mistake with this boy. 

Porthos hummed in agreement, “Why don’t you start with your last words regarding something about Spain?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the translations for the Spanish words in case you don't know what it meant:
> 
> "Están buscando respuestas, Julia. No pude responder porque también estoy confundido." (They are looking for answers, Julia. I couldn't answer because I'm also confused.)
> 
> “Te diré las respuestas pronto.” (I'll tell you the answers soon.)


	5. Chapter Five

As Julia began to remember the last words she uttered, she knew how she had to explain it all from the top. She groaned before sitting up in a more comfortable position since the tale is quite long, and she knew that they had to know everything in order to protect the young boy. 

“A civil war is now happening in Spain between King Felipe and Princess Luciana, Queen Anne’s older sister.” Julia slowly started to give them a summary of what was currently happening from where they came from. Though at the mention of Queen Anne’s older sister, everyone in the room held a puzzled look.

Athos tilted his head to the side, “Older sister? If Queen Anne had an older sister then she would’ve been our queen.” 

Julia sighed and shook her head, “Princess Luciana rebelled against her family and even went as far to renounce her royal status. She wanted to be treated equally as her brother, to learn everything King Felipe has learned. She wanted to learn how to fight, to strategize, to become a ruler, but their father strictly told her it wasn’t a woman’s job to do those.” 

“And now she wants to take over the Spanish throne?” Minister Treville asked with a tone of disbelief, “Not that I am against women but who would support her? She’ll get her head on a spike.” 

“That’s the thing, she has tons of supporters to match King Felipe.” Julia replied which made all of their eyes widen in shock as the thought of a female ruler on the throne was nearly impossible, “You have seen the war, King Felipe has further proved his mind is in no state for it. Spain has many more casualties than France. When a truce was offered, the King held his pride above the others and declined it. When the princess offered her guidance and strategy for the war which the council thought was best he also declined it, because the thought of being bested by his sister, a woman, nonetheless, made him mad.” 

D’Artagnan then crossed his arms, “You’re saying that the only reason this war isn’t over is because King Felipe values his pride more than the people?”

Julia slowly nodded, “Like everyone else, all we want is for this war to end. Princess Luciana has seen first hand the chaos it has brought and despite knowing many strategies to win this war, she wants to settle for peace. Most of the council is on her side for they are convinced of the king's madness. Still, King Felipe has loyal men to him and I’m sure this civil war we have will be a lot more bloodier than the one against your country.” 

The men turned to look at each other as if they were speaking by eyes alone. This war could’ve ended under the princess’ rule. This war is not about power anymore, it’s about pride. Treville still remembers how he managed to convince King Louis to have the Queen write to his brother for peace only for it to be denied in an instant. He remembers how mad King Louis was, to have seemed pathetic in the eyes of the Spanish. Queen Anne assured them that his brother would’ve accepted and it might be the council who was against it, they believed her, of course. But now, they knew the real reason.

“And how does this fit with Aramis?” Porthos pointed out with a shrug, “You came here because it was gettin’ bloody over there?”

The woman then breathed deeply before shaking her head, “Because we can’t have King Felipe use Aramis as leverage.” 

At this, all of their eyebrows furrowed as confusion took over once more. Leverage? How could the King of Spain use a Musketeer’s son as leverage? Julia saw the looks in their eyes and it made her sigh. 

“Leverage?” Athos questioned

“Princess Luciana is Aramis’ mother.” 

And with that, everything started falling into place like a puzzle. Julia had to watch as silence took over the Musketeers, the realization of their brother’s son being a prince if ever the princess wins the throne. Treville had to sit himself down as he thought of how such a thing could happen, how could Aramis have bed a princess and not tell anyone about it? 

“I-I’m still confused,” D’Artagnan stammered as he shook his head

Julia sighed upon realizing how she had to explain everything from the beginning, “Princess Luciana was 16 when she met Aramis who was 15. I told you how she had left the palace to live in an estate in the countryside with her aunt, it was there she met him. He saved her from a bunch of teenagers trying to harass her, he was her first love. She introduced herself as Mariana and that’s why he never knew of her status. He was the first man she slept with and same with him. After a few months, Princess Luciana had to move to another town because her aunt sold their estate and she had no choice. She found out she was pregnant not long after moving away, her aunt loved her so and took that secret to her grave. Aramis and her never met again, until 4 years ago.” 

“Aramis always had quite the taste,” Porthos breathed out as he began to see the kind of women his brother had slept with. Aramis never had standards when it came to women, he respected them all the same, but there’s no denying the pattern of royal and noble born women in his streak. 

The woman gave them a few minutes to absorb the information before continuing, “Little Aramis doesn’t know of it as well.”

Their lips began to form an ‘o’ as the reason for her wanting the boy to leave became evident. A secret such as this was too big to hide, it’s as if keeping the boy’s whole identity from him. Treville sighed heavily as the thought of keeping yet another life-changing secret weighed on his conscience. Not only were they to keep this secret from the boy, but also from France and the King whom they swore allegiance too. 

“You’re telling me we have to lie to that boy, _our_ brother’s son, about a huge revelation such as this?” Athos questioned quite aggressively as he never really appreciated lying not unless it was truly needed, “You’re not only asking us to lie to him but also to the country we swore allegiance to!” 

Julia knew how much the Musketeers values their duties but she had no choice, “I only ask you to keep this from him until he reaches 18. The civil war is not yet finished and we are not sure of what the outcome will be, all we know is that Aramis must be protected or else he’ll follow his father to the grave too soon.”

“The king is willing to kill his nephew?” Treville asked with disgust 

“Of course, it’s a blood feud.” Julia answered, “And I, for one, will not let anything happen to that boy. I love him like my own, I’ll die to save him if I have to.” 

All of them heard the conviction in her voice and never doubted it one second. The boy is not only their friend’s legacy but also Spain’s, still, if there is a reason for them to protect and love him it would be the former. They owe it to Aramis to keep his son safe and loved, just like how he loved and cared for them throughout his life. They would not only fail their brother but themselves if they turned his son away, not that any of them had the strength to. The boy barely spent time with them and it felt like their chests had gone lighter and the pain they felt was slowly lessening. 

“We do this not for Spain but for Aramis, for both the father _and_ the son.” Athos sternly proclaimed which the others seemed to agree on. 

This made the woman slowly smile as the weight in her chest was lifted, “Take care of him, mold him into the honorable man like you and his father are. Teach him to defend himself and fight for those that need it, teach him how to lead with not only his mind but his heart, show him not how to rule but to lead. If there is any way for this war to end with peace then believe me, that boy is the key.” 

They would want nothing but peace, for this war to end and for everything to go back to normal, but again, this is a war of pride. If they wanted peace then Julia was right, the secret about his identity must be kept. Little Aramis is still a boy no matter how tall or mature he seems to be. Things like this can slip from his tongue and there are people who have the ability to pressure him into saying something, but none of it will happen if he doesn’t know. 

“If Princess Luciana manages to succeed, which I think she will, Aramis will be the next king.” Julia added to further press on the reality of their situation, “So, like I said before I passed out, protect the future King of Spain.” 


	6. Chapter Six

“You won’t stay then?” D’Artagnan asked 

He noticed how she’s been giving them reminders like she’s going to leave. The men waited for her to answer and watched as her face suddenly fell with sorrow. She began fiddling with the hem of the blanket as the thought of leaving the boy she watched grow up and look after dawned on her. She hasn’t been separated from him for as long as 3 days and the fact that she was going to leave him for years instantly caused her chest to grow heavy. 

“Who can’t stay?” 

All their eyes landed on the door as the boy they were talking about slowly entered with a tray in his hands filled with a bowl of soup, bread, and some tarts. Aramis’ eyes glanced back and forth between the five of them as he overheard them talking about someone not staying. Constance gently closed the door behind them as she held a glass of water in her hands.

The teenager’s eyebrows furrowed as he walked closer to them. He placed the tray on the table next to her before sitting on her bedside, his face slowly being filled with questions. Constance also placed what she was holding on the table before standing beside D’Artagnan, a hand on her beloved’s shoulder. 

“Who?” Aramis repeated

“Me, kitten.” Julia decided to answer and watched as the boy’s face suddenly changed, “I can’t stay here.” 

Aramis shook his head, “Why not? You’re French! If there’s anyone who can’t stay here it’s me.” 

His retort caused the woman to sigh knowing how argumentative the boy can be, “Kitten, listen. I told you that we are being chased by many bad people, if they realize how your mother’s loyal servant is suddenly gone then it will raise some suspicion.” 

“Then let Mother handle it!” Aramis exclaimed, “She’ll think of a solution. She can say you died or that you had gone home to your family. I know her, she’ll think of something.” 

The others watched as the boy argued with the same passion their brother had. It’s going to be extremely hard to convince him especially if it is against something he believed in, not to mention he’s only 15. Betrayal filled Aramis’ face as he realized that someone important to him is once again going to leave him. He couldn’t explain the pain he felt when his mother ordered him to ride away, when Cristobal told him he wasn’t coming with them to France, when he heard the news of his father dying, and now with Julia leaving. 

“And me coming back is what she thought of.” Julia vigorously told the boy in front of her. Her hands found his nape as she looked into his big brown eyes, “Your mother’s enemies are smart and clever, kitten. If your mother says this is what we should do then we must follow. All of this is for your safety, to make sure you grow up into a wonderful man. She loves you so much, as did your father, and so do I. These men, the Musketeers, they are the only ones we can trust and I’m pretty sure they’ll grow to love you as well, if they don’t already.” 

Julia glanced at the others who spared her a small smile because of her last words, “Stay here in France. I know you vowed to become a Musketeer, well, this is your chance. Train with them, fight with them, grow into a strong and dauntless man like your father would’ve wanted. You are born into greatness, Aramis. It’s time you show everyone what you’re capable of.” 

Aramis’ anger slowly subsided as he heard those words leave Julia’s mouth. She had a point, they have all gone to extreme lengths to keep him safe and it would be selfish to keep them to himself. No matter how painful it was, he knew he needed to let go. With a timid smile, he nodded his head a sign of him understanding and agreeing to her decision. 

“Very well,” He quietly replied

Upon seeing how upset the teenager was, Porthos decided to speak up, “Don’t worry, Julia won’t leave right away. She’ll need to rest a bit first so that means you’ll still have time to spend with her.”

The woman glanced at Porthos and nodded along before tucking a strand of hair behind Aramis’ ear, “That’s right. I’ll also have to teach them not to give into that deadly pout and pleading eyes, only God knows how many things you’ve managed to talk me into with those adorable expressions alone.” 

All of them seemed to let out a chuckle which caused Aramis to crack a one-sided smile before glancing between Athos and Treville, “Does that mean I get to train as a Musketeer?” 

Porthos let out a loud belly laugh that could almost be heard through the entire garrison, “We’ll make the best out of you yet!” 

“Exactly,” Treville agreed before leaning over to ruffle the boy’s locks, “You’re going to be an amazing Musketeer, Aramis. Like I said before, you have it in you.” 

The praise he was receiving gradually reduced the sorrow he was feeling about Julia leaving. He vowed to his father that he’ll do his best to become one of the best Musketeers there is, he’ll live up to his name and make him proud every step of the way. A wide smile found its way on his face revealing his perfect pearl teeth that could make any girl in France swoon. 

“You can start training next week.” Athos added since he is their captain, “The other cadets are currently on a small break so we’ll introduce you when they come back.” 

Aramis eagerly nodded as excitement took over his body, “I just hope they like me.” 

“They’ll love you.” D’Artagnan gushed before giving him a reassuring smile, “Especially when they see how great your aim is. You can show them a thing or two on how to shoot properly. None of them can even shoot near the bullseye and I’m slowly losing my mind.” 

The teenager shrugged, “My father  _ is  _ the best marksman in the regiment and probably France, additionally, I’m the only one he told  _ everything  _ there is to know about becoming a great marksman.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fine, you’ve got his skills.” Porthos teasingly rambled before swinging his arm around his neck and pulling him close causing the boy to chuckle, “Let’s give Julia some time to eat while you, D’Artagnan, and I see what other things you’ve got, yeah?” 

Aramis’ eyes shone as he instantly nodded before turning to Julia, “I’ll see you later!” 

Julia watched as the young prince walked out of the room along with the two musketeers and Constance whom she thinks is a nice woman. Treville and Athos were the only ones left and not long after that, the Minister decided to stand up. 

“I figure we should keep his identity from Queen Anne as well.” Treville concluded with a tone that declared rather than asked since not only is Aramis her lover’s son but her nephew too.

Julia nodded, “Yes. Why would she need to know?” 

“Queen Anne and Aramis were lovers.” Athos blurted which made Treville turn towards the Musketeer since he didn’t expect him to tell a stranger about their Queen’s infidelity, “Aramis loved her with every fibre of his being and so did she. When she discovers that the man she loves has a son who looks entirely like him, it will pull her close. Knowing the queen, she will feel like she is obligated to take care and love the boy because like us, we believe we owe it to our brother and she to her beloved.” 

This revelation made Julia understand why the Minister suddenly included the queen in their conversation. Queen Anne and Aramis, she didn’t expect that and she’s sure Luciana won’t either. How could she have known that the girl who was once asking her about who her older sister was playing with would end up with the same boy she was asking about? Yes, Anne had seen Aramis back in Spain although she doubts the queen would remember. 

Anne was 14 when she, along with her mother, went to visit Luciana in the countryside. Julia was 16 at the time, same with Luciana who had known Aramis for at least 2 weeks. Julia, like Luciana, was fascinated and infatuated by the young charming boy. She remembered coming into Anne’s room and seeing her looking out the window. Curious at what the girl was looking at, Julia slowly stood next to her and there she saw Aramis making a kite fly for Luciana. It was then that the young girl asked who the boy playing with her sister was and she chuckled before answering the question. Julia told her it was a ‘knight in shining armor’ which Anne gushed about saying how she wants one for herself too. Julia told her she’d have to find someone else because that knight was taken by her sister, still, Anne insisted saying how she wanted him because he was good-looking and he was making her sister happy and she wanted to be happy too. Who knew that Anne would actually end up getting the knight for herself? 

“Julia?” Athos called which snapped her out of her trance 

She shook her head before sparing a tiny smile at the man, “I’m sorry, I just remembered how long it has been since I last saw Queen Anne. If what you say about their love is true, then it would be fair for her to know the prince, but only as her lover’s son and not her nephew.” 

The two men nodded at this knowing that they’re all on the same page. It’s not possible to keep the teenager inside the garrison forever and especially not from their own royals. When the time comes where they meet, they have to know what to do. 

“I believe we should be on our way,” Treville softly uttered with a bow of his head before slowly walking away from the woman, “Ask for Athos or anyone if you need something.” 

Athos did the same as he followed the Minister out the door but not before looking over his shoulder and uttering a few reassuring words, “Just rest, we’ll take care of him.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the delay, a lot of things came up within the past few days but it's all good now. I'll try my best to update daily again and I hope ya'll enjoy this new chapter.

It’s been two days since the visit with Minister Treville and Julia happened. In those days, Porthos and D’Artagnan took it upon themselves to show the young cadet around. Athos wanted nothing more but to join them and bond with the little one but he’s the Captain, and he had much work to do. Whenever night came, Athos would join them in their usual spot as he listened to Little Aramis talk about how his day went and share a few memories back in Spain. In return, all of them would tell him tales of their adventures which included his father. It made the boy happy talking about him, it was his favorite topic, and so they gave him what he deserved and wanted. 

That morning, everyone in the garrison woke up and did their daily routine which Aramis slowly got ahold of. D’Artagnan was the last one to arrive at their table after having spent the night with Constance. His eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the little one missing. He usually arrived at the table with Porthos laughing his ass off from the young boy’s tales and jokes while Athos spared a smirk every now and then. At the current moment, none of that was happening which made the Gascon grow curious. 

“Where’s Aramis?” D’Artagnan asked as he placed his weapons down at the table. He slowly looked up at the boy’s room and saw his windows open which made him hum in question. 

Porthos shrugged as he followed his friend’s line of sight, “Maybe he’s overslept. We did talk too much last night, poor boy must’ve exhausted his jaws laughing.” 

Athos nodded along, “He won’t get much rest when training starts. I figure we can give him this one, a lot did happen these past few days.” 

The Gascon couldn’t argue with that seeing how it was true. Running from people who want to kill you can take quite a toll on one’s body and he understood that, but he just couldn’t help but worry about him. It’s only been a few days since Little Aramis arrived but he could already feel himself being overprotective of the young one, same with the others which can be a lot more obvious although they don’t realize it. 

“Fair point,” D’Artagnan agreed but he just couldn’t shake his worry off, “But I’ll stop by to see if he’d like to eat with us. You know how he still feels about the others.” 

The other two nodded and shooed him away which he did. D’Artagnan walked up to Aramis’ room and noticed how the door was closed meaning he could probably still be in there. He stood in front of the door before knocking gently but received no response. He did so again but this time a bit more louder yet there was still no answer. 

“Aramis?” He called out while knocking. 

He remembered waking the boy in the past few days and he knew how even in sleep, he’d utter at least a groan or a thud indicating that he fell from the bed. Hearing nothing from the room only made him grow a lot more anxious as his chest began to tighten. He knocked again but this time he didn’t hold back and it was a whole lot louder.

“Aramis?” He called out louder.

Again, there was no response which finally led D’Artagnan to twisting the knob opening it. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized how it wasn’t locked which it always is with everyone inside the garrison. He stepped foot inside the room and felt how cold it was, like the window was let open since last night. He then went on to pick up the blanket on the ground before placing it on top of his bed. Anxiety slowly rose in his chest but he kept calm as to not give out a false alarm and worry the other two Musketeers who would panic in an instant. 

D’Artagnan opened the closets and saw how most of the things were still there. His eyes then landed on the chair where he noticed their late brother’s rapiers missing which made his eyes widen. His boots were nowhere to be found as well which meant he wasn’t taken or anything, he left of his own will. Not wanting to worry his brothers still, he took it upon himself to search the garrison up and down looking for the boy but nothing. He could already feel his two brothers growing curious with him going around the place but decided to let him be as he tried his best to not act like something was wrong until he was certain of it. 

Finally, having exhausted all his options, he remembered Julia who was in the infirmary. As if a light bulb lit up in his head, he hurriedly went to the infirmary in long strides. Athos and Porthos saw as D’Artagnan strided across the courtyard back and forth but thought of it as him checking in on the others, but then he rapidly went into the infirmary which raised both of their eyebrows. They noticed how odd and tensed the Musketeer seemed to be which made them curious. They glanced at each other and nodded before standing up to follow their brother into the infirmary where they saw him beginning to fret while Julia sat up with a worried expression.

“Woah, D’Artagnan,” Porthos uttered as he went closer to his brother making him stop from pacing, “Tell us what’s going on.” 

D’Artagnan sighed heavily before pointing at Aramis’ room, “He’s gone.” 

Athos’ eyebrows raised in question, “What do you mean ‘He’s gone’? He’s probably just around here doing what he likes to do.” 

“Didn’t you see me turn this place upside down?” D’Artagnan retorted before placing his hands on his hips, “I checked his room, it was empty, and the rapiers along with his boots were gone. I searched the Garrison everywhere and nothing. We told him not to go outside, tell me he’s not that stupid.” 

Porthos and Athos glanced at each other before giving D’Artagnan a ‘his-father-is-Aramis’ look which only made him groan. Julia watched in confusion as the men fretted in front of her which only drove her to do the same. She hoped that the boy had only gone to let his adventurous side out and was not taken or else she would never forgive herself. 

“If he’s outside then he’s in danger!” Julia exclaimed, causing the men to focus their attention on her, “You have no idea how many Spanish spies there can be in this place. If one of the men we killed managed to inform someone about us before he died then we’re dead.”

Athos ran his fingers through his hair as the reality dawned on him, “We have to find him but we’ve nowhere to start. This has to be kept quiet, we can’t bring him out there in a snap or we’ll attract attention. Where would he go? He knows nothing about Paris.” 

“He could’ve probably roamed around, like our Aramis used to do in the morning.” Porthos suggested as he remembered their fallen brother’s routines, “If that’s the case then we’ll have a harder time finding him. At least with Aramis we had somewhere to start, like his lady friends which is probably every house in Paris.” 

At the mention of lady friends, Julia’s eyes perked up as she turned her head towards the men. They noticed how her eyes widened as if something just came to her and so decided to come closer. 

“Julia?” D’Artagnan called out, “Do you know something? Any place we can start?”

The woman immediately nodded, “Last night, Aramis came here gushing about roaming around Paris and visiting a friend of his. I told him that when you’ve fixed everything and that it was safe, you’d take him out yourself. I should’ve known my words would have no effect on him. That boy has adventure and risks coursing through his veins, he’s so much like his father it scares me.” 

“And who is this friend?” Porthos asked 

Julia’s eyes suddenly turned blank as she continued, “ _ She  _ was in Spain last year. Aramis met her in church where she couldn’t help but stare at him and knowing that boy, he entertained her of course. They didn’t meet often but Aramis did sneak out of the house to meet her and all he ever told me was he showed her around town, I didn’t believe that, obviously. She came back to Paris not so long after their meeting and I think it’s where he went.” 

The three musketeers groaned as they stood straight. They never expected to run into this kind of trouble again with their womanizing brother dead, but then his son arrives and takes over that place. Sooner or later, Paris will get a new lover. 

“What’s her name?” Athos questioned as he started getting ready by fixing his weapons, “And where does she live?” 

“Jean-Claire,” Julia answered before reaching out for a paper and quill that was at the table, “And this is where she lives.” 

D’Artagnan took it and handed it over to the two, “We’ll bring him back.” 

They looked over the address that was written down and nodded since they knew where it was. All three of them gave her a smile before heading out of the door hurriedly. Despite having an idea where he was, the worry in Julia’s chest wouldn’t go away until she sees him. It was the first time she hoped he was with that girl, if not, then that could mean he’s in trouble. 

In one of the luxurious apartments in Paris, Aramis laid comfortably in the queen-sized bed with his right arm under his head and left arm around Jean-Claire whose head was placed above his shirtless chest. The teenager breathed heavily before opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling, satisfaction coursed through him as he finally got to do what he wanted. 

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” Jean-Claire muttered as she ran her finger around his chest and down to his stomach. She then stared up at him with a pout which made the boy look down at her with a smirk.

Aramis stared at her as he let his hands run through her hair, “Aren’t you happy I am?” 

“Aramisss,” Jean-Claire drawled out cutely as she bit her lip, “Of course I am. The man who took my innocence is now lying beneath me looking as handsome as ever, but still, I’m curious as to how you got here seeing how you’re Spanish.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t take it, you begged me to. Also yes, I’m Spanish, but that doesn’t matter since I’m here now.” 

The girl groaned before rolling over to straddle him, “It does to me. It’s obvious you love me since you went here and I love you back. Don’t you trust me, Aramis?” 

She then leaned down and placed a long kiss on his lips before continuing down his neck and chest which only made his breath hitch. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t actually love her, but then again, he didn’t want to hurt her so he kept quiet instead. He sighed as he tried his best to avoid getting aroused by her kisses, he couldn’t afford another round since he’ll be dead if anyone finds out he left the garrison. 

“Please?” Jean-Claire uttered as she hovered above his groin, her fingers slowly playing with his braies. 

Aramis’ eyes widened as he shook his head but it only encouraged her, “O-Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. But after it I’m going or else I’m dead.” 

The girl bit her lip and nodded before going back up and settling on his chest. She stared at him lovingly which only made him sigh knowing how he’s probably leading her on. He made a mental note to clear things up with her once he’s allowed to freely roam around, but for now, he’d explain his situation to her like he promised.

“I’m here because someone’s trying to kill me back there. People who want revenge against my mother since she works with some very dangerous people.” Aramis sighed

Jean-Claire perked up, “What’s her job?” 

Aramis shrugged, “She never involved me in it for this reason.”

“But why France?” The girl added curiously, “Not that I don’t want you here.” 

“My father,” He replied as a small smile eventually found its way on his lips whenever he talked about him, “He’s from here. He’s part of the King’s Musketeers, was, actually. One of the best, as everyone in the Garrison told me. I live there now along with my father’s friends.” 

Jean-Claire’s eyes shone as her mouth widened in shock, “I know now! Your father is Aramis, right? You were named after him! He was one of the Les Inseparables! People here talk about them all the time! How could I not notice?”

The boy’s eyebrows raised as he realized that she knew of his father, “You know him?” 

“Not personally,” Jean-Claire shrugged, “But they saved mother once from a robbery. She told me of how valiant and amazing they are! She also mentioned their unmatched chivalry, especially your father. She told me he was very charming and handsome, that Paris had a right to fall for him. I can see it wasn’t a lie now, I mean, you probably took after him!” 

Aramis grinned, “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh wow,” The girl mumbled in awe before snuggling closer to him, “Everyone in France will be jealous once they discover what I have in my arms.” 

Aramis let out a forced chuckle as he took note of how Jean-Claire referred to him as if he was an object. He tried to understand, after all, she’s just 15 and her mentality might still change. But he was 15 himself, and he didn’t look at women or other people that way, perhaps it’s just him, he was always matured for his age. 

“I’m sorry but I have to go,” He gave her his best smile as he tried to get up only to be straddled by the girl whose face contorted into disappointment, “Jean-Claire, please, you promised!” 

The girl pouted and shook her head as she placed her hands on his chest pinning him in place, “Some promises are meant to be broken, mon amour. Stay longer, stay with me.” 

Aramis sighed and eagerly tried to squirm away but her grip grew stronger which shocked him, “I can’t, chérie. I told you, I stay at the Garrison now. The Musketeers will know if I go missing and I won-”

“Nooo,” She groaned and tried to press her lips on him but he decided to avoid it.

Aramis exhaled, “I promise you I’ll make it up to you.” 

Jean-Claire raised one of her eyebrows mysteriously before slowly licking her lips, “You can make it up to me now.” 

The teenage boy shook his head vigorously and closed his eyes, he can’t get aroused now, not again. He tried to grab her shoulders to gently push her off but he was surprised by her strength when she suddenly pinned his hands above his head. He stared up at her shockingly and saw the glint of mischief in her eyes which made him the more eager to close his. 

“Aramis!” 

The boy’s eyes shot open as he heard the loud shout which surely didn’t come from Jean-Claire much less any woman. The girl who was on top of him shared his confusion and they both glanced at each other before looking at the doors. As if on cue, the door to her room swung open and revealed three annoyed Musketeers followed by who seemed like a servant. Jean-Claire hurriedly fell beside him and gathered the blankets up to her chest to hide her body while Aramis stared in shock at the three men. 

Athos, Porthos, and D’Artagnan all shared the same feeling which is what they commonly share whenever their late brother went to one of his  _ friendly  _ exploits. They all held a stoic look which obviously worked its charm since Aramis instantly flew out of the bed and began dressing up. His eyes searched his other things and Jean-Claire took it upon herself to point to the rapiers beside her closet which he ran to get. As soon as he was all fixed despite being disheveled, he cautiously walked to the three but then Porthos placed a hand on his shoulder which made him flinch before being pulled towards him. 

“We apologize for the disturbance, mademoiselle.” Athos tipped his hat at the girl who slowly lifted her hand to wave.

Aramis tried glancing back at her but Porthos’ hold on him tightened which was a sign for him not to so he kept walking with his eyes straight on their path. He blinked tightly as he realized how dead he was, he surely was going to receive quite the scolding not only from Julia but from them. He should’ve thought better, they weren’t in Spain anymore where he could get away with most of the things. He’s in France staying with the musketeers which should be a warning itself.

“You’ve got much explaining to do,” Porthos finally said the moment they were outside of the apartment.

Aramis sighed as he watched the three ride on their horses, “It isn’t what you think.” 

D’Artagnan and Porthos raised an eyebrow at each other before looking down at the boy with a grin. Porthos held his hand out to the boy and pulled him up to sit behind him before replying, “It didn’t look like you were playing catch, were you? You forget we’re adults, Aramis. We’re no fool.” 

“You’re going to be in real trouble when we get back,” D’Artagnan warned as the horses began to gallop back to the garrison. 

Porthos chuckled, “Athos is silent, that means serious trouble, little one.” 

  
Aramis gulped at this before holding on to the big man and following the others back to the garrison,  _ “Dios ten piedad de mi”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translation: 
> 
> "Dios ten piedad de mi" (God have mercy on me.)


End file.
